


self-same metal

by mitch23k



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, Merry xmas mikie ilysm, They wuv eachother uwu, waycest shippers choke and get tf away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:22:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28291572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitch23k/pseuds/mitch23k
Summary: Gerard worries what Mikey will think about his little drag adventure at SVA.Title from king lear :D
Relationships: Gerard Way & Mikey Way
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	self-same metal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashottoremember](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashottoremember/gifts).



Gerard has been trying to explain this whole thing to his brother for like ten minutes and it’s not working. 

Mikey is looking at him with a quirked brow, mouth twisted in confusion. “Okay?” he says, uncertain. “I still don’t really understand.”

Gerard sighs. He was hoping Mikey would just understand all the insinuations and he wouldn’t have to. You know. Say it out loud. “Um, okay, so like. What I’m trying to say is...Okay, shit, let’s just run through it again, okay? Rocky Horror, right?”

“Right.”

“Psycho?”

“Uh huh.”

“Um, Buffalo Bill, yknow?”

“Sure.”

“Rupaul.”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. So what is the common factor here?”

“Uh.” Mikey scratches his cheek, staring at the ceiling. “I mean, other than Rupaul, those are all murderers, so.”

“Jesus fuck, Mikes,” Gerard moans, dragging his hands down his face. “You know what, forget I said anything. I’m gonna- ugh. Bye.”

It’s freezing outside and Mom’s not even home to nag at him to not smoke inside, but he sits on the front stoop anyway, cement cold as ice even through his jeans. It’s not that he’s ashamed - he’s not, really he’s not. Embarrassed? Well. He wasn’t embarrassed about it at SVA. Guys did that all the time there, and so did girls. For art, for an experiment, for fun, you name it. It wasn’t considered that weird. And even walking around New York like that with Jon, no one really gave him any shit. One or two guys yelled some shit, but Gerard hadn’t cared. He’d been on Cloud Nine the whole time. 

But it’s different here. Back in Belleville. And if Mikey, the only person in the world whose opinion on  _ anything _ matters, thinks it's weird, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. 

The kid in question grants him three blessed minutes of peace and nicotine before he joins him outside.

“You’re gonna get hypothermia,” Gerard bitches, looking away from his little brother. “You need a jacket, it’s like twenty degrees out.”

“M’not cold,” Mikey responds, valiantly acting like he isn’t shivering and doesn’t have his arms wrapped around himself. “I’ll go inside once you tell me what’s been up with you since you got home.”

“Nothing’s up with me.”

“Something’s always up with you,” Mikey says. He sticks his tongue out when Gerard glares at him. “No offense.”

“Shut up,” Gerard grumbles, getting to his feet. “I’m gonna go take a nap.”

“Oh, fun, I’ll go downstairs too,” Mikey says, jutting his chin out with a wicked, mischievous smile. 

“Or, wild idea, you could leave me the fuck alone for three seconds,” Gerard mutters, stamping out the cigarette. “Fuckin’ tagalong.”

Mikey rolls his eyes. “Dude, you’re literally the tagalong between the two of us.”

Gerard gives him the middle finger instead of responding, because Mikey’s right. Mikey’s the one who took Gerard to see the Pumpkins, Mikey’s the one who drags Gerard to parties, Mikey’s the bold one. If it wasn’t for him, Gerard would spend every minute home from college in the basement sleeping. Mikey is the only person Gerard doesn’t mind making him do things, because he’s his little brother and he loves him more than anyone else in the world and he always helps Gerard and he-

“Bro,” Mikey says, suddenly up in his face. “Are you crying?”

“No,” Gerard lies, hurriedly scrubbing his face. “It’s fucking cold, dumbass, my eyes are watering.”

Mikey takes a step back but eyes him suspiciously. “G, c’mon. You’ve been all twitchy and nervous since you got home, you keep talking about Rocky Horror for some fucking reason. Is something up?”

“I always talk about Rocky Horror.”

“Not- God, dude, you don’t usually ask me fifty times an hour if Tim Curry is still the man though!” Mikey says exasperatingly. “And you won’t stop playing ‘Lola’ by The Kinks whenever I walk in a room! I don’t know what your, like, problem is with drag all of a sudden, but whatever they say about crossdressing in New York is clearly-“

Gerard blinks, turns and looks at him. “Wait, what the fuck are you talking about?”

Mikey crosses his arms tighter around himself. “Uh, I’m talking about the fact that you’re being really weird about crossdressing lately, stupid. Buffalo Bill? Norman Bates?” He shakes his head. “You keep bringing up, like, these evil crossdressing guys. I thought you were cool about this stuff. There’s nothing wrong with it. I thought you were on the level with it but clearly they changed your mind at SVA and now you’re acting like we live in Texas, or something.”

Gerard stares at him. “Hang on. Hang- wait you think I-“ He takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut. “Mike, Jesus Christ, I don’t hate crossdressers, I did drag last month in New York and I’ve been trying to tell you all week but I’m afraid you’re gonna think I’m a weirdo. Fuck’s sake.”

There’s a long stretch of silence in which Gerard wonders if you can sew your own mouth shut or if you have to go to a willing doctor. Because if you can DIY that, he’s considering doing it when he gets back inside. It’d be helpful. 

“Oh,” Mikey finally says after a while. 

“Yeah. Oh.”

There’s another minute of the only sound being the wind whipping through the air before Gerard hears a snicker. 

He cracks one eye open to see his brother smirking. “Something to say, asshole?”

Mikey nods happily. “Yeah, uh, I was just wondering how short the dress was.”

Gerard shuts his eyes again, smiling. “Skirt. It was a jean miniskirt I borrowed from a friend.”

Another snicker. “Oh, cool. Um, heh, so, how short are we talking?”

“Just to clarify,” Gerard says dryly, lighting up another cigarette. “You’re not laughing because I crossdressed, you’re laughing because you’re picturing-“

“A jean miniskirt,” Mikey whispers, barely holding his laughter in. “You wore a jean miniskirt. Who are you, Mom?”

Gerard giggles. “Shut up, dick. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Please tell me it had a stitching pattern on it. Please. G, you’d make my year.”

He takes a drag. “It had a pink butterfly faux-rhinestone design on the side, if you must know” he says very seriously, adopting a Liza Minelli accent, as Mikey doubles over laughing. “It came up to above mid-thigh, but I protected my modesty by wearing tights underneath, fear not.”

It takes Mikey a few seconds to collect himself. He’s still grinning when he says, “Oh, good, that’s great, Miss Way. I’m sure you looked very pretty.”

Gerard blows smoke in his face. “I was gorgeous, for your information. C’mon stupid, let’s go inside before you get frostbite.”

Five minutes later, they’re both bundled in blankets, playing video games and drowning themselves in soda when Mikey pauses the game. 

“Yo, asshole, I was about to kick your ass, no fair!” Gerard says, looking over before shutting the fuck up. Mikey’s chewing his lip, avoiding Gerard’s eyes. “What?”

“Uh, y’know, I don’t. What you said, outside, about being worried I would think less of you, or whatever. I don’t. Just so you know.” Mikey fiddles with the controller. 

“Yeah, uh.” Gerard’s mouth feels dry. “I know. Thanks.”

“Like, yes, I do think you’re a very strange and weird freakazoid, make no mistake, hey!“ he adds, grinning, when Gerard elbows him. “But you’ve always been a very strange and weird freakazoid, and I still think you’re cool, so. The whole drag thing doesn’t change that.” He clears his throat. “Next time, though, for the love of God, wear something fashionable. A jean fucking miniskirt, I can’t believe it.” He starts the game back up. “I bet you wore fucking sneakers with it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus, dude, have some style. Did anyone give you any shit about it?”

“No, not really.”

“Oh, good, so I don’t have to hitch a ride up to NY and kick anyone's ass, cool.”

And as Mikey’s character beats the shit out of Gerard’s character, as usual, Gerard wonders what he was ever worried about.


End file.
